The World Finally Knows
by Little Miss English Nerd
Summary: A rather hysterical one-shot about the Jonas Brothers and where their lyrics come from. Nick getting drunk, Kevin losing his girl, and Joe going completely bonkers. COMPLETE. Please review and enjoy!


**DISCLAIMER: I no own dee songz. Just dee plotz. Okayzz? Okayz. Enjoyz! :)**

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><p>*Que cheesy introduction*<p>

Ever wonder where half of the Jonas Brothers songs have come from?

Where did "Goodnight and Goodbye," "Hello Beautiful," "Hold On," "Just Friends," "S.O.S," and "Year 3000" _really_ come from?

"Let's find out; a one, a two-ooh, a three! *crunch* How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop? The world may never never know!" But ah, the world _will_ know the origins of a few famous Joe Bro songs!

Relax, get some popcorn, and "_hold on tight, it's a roller coaster ride we're on so..._" Enjoy. *evil laughter*

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><p>Kevin Jonas hopped on his Nimbus 2000, grinning at the hairdresser perched on the twig behind him.<p>

"**Hold on tight, tonight I'm gonna fly. Say goodbye, 'cause we won't be back again. Just hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.**"

"I get it, Kev," the startled scissor wielder stated after his outburst. "I've always wanted to be kidnapped by an afro-headed, singing guy. Just remember that we need to use protection. Say it with me, _pro-tec-tion_. **(#1)** You _know_ what happened last time! My perfect head doesn't need another concussion! Now, where are those helmets? Why do you need to teach me how to fly, anyway? You're not Peter Pan; you look more like a younger Michael Jackson, and not in a good way..."

A figure suddenly approached them on an extremely fast broom. Kevin's haircutting girlfriend looked at the guy with a supposedly charming *cough, creepy,* smile.

"Nice ride," she said breathlessly.

The black haired guy with a wonky scar spoke up with his fancy-shmancy British accent. "Thanks. Do you want to go for a bit of a jimjanga-fancypantsa-wallajangamal-oogee-smickshmack-tollywolly-skip-deedoo?"

The girl gave him an affronted look. "Wha-what did you just ask me?"

He sighed. _Why was it always the pretty, stupid, AMERICAN ones?_

"Do you want to take a ride with me? You wouldn't need a helmet, you know; I'm experienced. I also have one of the best brooms in the world; a Firebolt."

When everything was said and done, a rejected Kevin Jonas watched his (now-ex) girlfriend riding off into the star specked sky.

"Eat that, Nimbus Guy!" The scarhead yelled over his broad, attractive shoulder-much more attractive than Kevin's shoulders.

"**I'll just keep on dreaming-**"

B.O.B and guest stars appeared randomly, nearly scaring poor Kevin off his broom. "_Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now..._"

A lone tear slipped down the sorrowful Jonas's face "**-goodnight a-a-and goodbye**."

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><p>"<strong>I told you I made dinner plans-<strong>" a flustered Nick Jonas tried to explain to an even more exasperated maitre d.

"Sir, I just can't seem to find you on here..." the stressed man trailed off. "Oh great, another stupid celebrity..." he muttered darkly, plastering on a smile for the molasses-degree slow and unsuspecting Nick.

"Mr. Jonas, this is where you hand me money and ask for a private table...?" He suggested helpfully in hushed tones.

"**If I had my way, we'd talk and talk all day, ye-**"

The man finally could stand it no longer. "Give me your money!" He screamed, pulling out a random pistol seemingly from nowhere. The Ever-so-Slow-One reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash. A smiling host could be seen as he ever-so-slyly plucked the moolah from the star's hand.

"We have a table for you, sir. Right this way, sir. Thank-you for your generosity, sir; have an excellent night, sir. I'll see to it that your date makes it to the table all right, sir. Enjoy your meal, sir..."

Unfortunately for the unsuspecting host, the kitchen was running low on staff, and the previously stated man was to be Nick Jonas's server.

After ten minutes of Jonas boy looking blankly at the menu, a tight-faced host appeared, brandishing a large cup of water and a notepad. After another ten minutes of mindlessness, the JoeBro ordered a serving of kids chicken nuggets and fries.

"Somebody. Help. Me." The man desperately called out...albeit, very quietly. Little did he know, at that moment, Nick was actually indulging in his water...which turned out to be white wine. Yippee.

The cook had the order ready shortly, and the now-waiter decided to just casually leave it on the wack-job's table. No such luck, however. A drunken Nick Jonas grabbed onto the man's impeccable suit coat gruffly.

"**Hello beautiful, how's it going?**"

"No! No! No! No! Bad drunk man! Let go of me, let go!" Our waiter screamed. Too bad he's in a private room. Where no one can hear him. Mwahahaha-on with it, then.

Jonas apparently noticed this, too, as he glanced around the room. "**You and me and no one else.**"

The poor man just gaped like an out-of-water fish. He had given the underage star alcohol. He would be sued. His career was over. His life, his hopes, his aspiration to one day own a chain of _Bed, Bath, and Beyond_ stores-GONE!

"**I've been missing you, it's true.**"

That night ended with an intoxicated Nick receiving a blow to the head and a ticket to la-la land. Perhaps there really _are_ reasons for poor Nicky going solo. All because of a careless maitre-waiter.

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><p>As for Joe Jonas...well, he had quite the run-in with a time machine gone awry. Or perhaps he was just following in The Beatles's footsteps and abusing substances?<p>

"**I've been to the year 3000-**"

The people at the _loony farm_ had no idea why the celebrity had suddenly gone so -so LOONY! They decided that Joe would have to live out the duration of his life working in a factory that built picket fences.

"**I'VE BEEN MAKING LOTS OF PLANS LIKE A PICKET FENCE AND A ROSE GARDEN, I'LL JUST KEEP ON DREAMIN-**" he would sometimes shout randomly during his long, grueling work shifts.

The asylum people finally gave in and had a heart; they sent him to live with a nice lady named Lady Gaga. Ever wonder why she stutters so much in her songs? Well, now you know that, too!

"_My p-p-p-p-poker face my p-poker face. Muh-muh-muh_-OW! JOE! STOP POKING ME IN THE FACE, YOU IMBECILE!"

That, my friends, is the mournful tale of the Jonas Brothers. You'll never think of their songs the same way, will you?

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><p>By the way...<p>

**(#1)** GET YO' MIND OUTTA THE GUTTERS! Protection? Helmet? See my wise ways? Ahh yes, ahh yes... I bet you didn't even expect the helmet comment to come, did you? I laugh at you. Mwahahaha.

Have a nice day, ya'll! I gotta get me back to the loony farm! :)


End file.
